Red Keep ― Tower of the Hand…
"Our esteemed guests are on their way to the capital in droves, and once everyone is accounted for, we will begin the court proceedings after concluding our business in these petitions," Viserys informed his parents. "Afterward, I'm afraid the crown must make a formal decision regarding the ongoing border dispute between House Bracken and House Blackwood in the Riverlands. Once settled, we must address Lord Rogar Reyne's inquiry into the silver mines near the Crag. From what I understand, both sides claim ownership of those mines and will not relent."
"We thank you for your report, Viserys," Alicent said.
Beatrice, on the other hand, remained visibly silent. Her left hand wrapped around her neck, and a visible handprint lay, indicating she had been choked roughly. The queen raised her collar to hide the bruising. However, the damage inflicted occurred years ago after the Driftmark incident. For threatening Alicent Hightower and stabbing the heir to the Iron Throne, Aeonar punished Beatrice by having her right hand cut off. And once he heard what the queen had said about their stillborn daughter Alaena, the Young Dragon strangled her to nearly crushing her windpipe, only releasing her when Alicent insisted Beatrice had been punished enough. All that remained was a stump, hidden beneath her long-sleeved orange dress and a sore throat.
"There's something more. Father, mother. I'm told aunt Rhaenyra has arrived earlier than expected," Viserys said.
Aeonar had his index finger pointing vertically against his cheek while his thumb rested beneath his chin. She intends to oppose Ser Vaemond's claim to Driftmark and advocate for her son, Jace. "I already know that," he said.
"You knew?"
"I've been a spymaster for twenty-two years before becoming Hand, son."
"Ah. Of course. Dumb question."
Beatrice had something on her mind. However, the queen's expression quickly turned sour when Aeonar's eyes shifted toward her, and she made a beeline for the exit. But just as she was about to leave, Aeonar's voice rang out, calling her name.
"The next time you insult my wife or make another derogatory statement about our Alaena, you'll lose more than just a hand," Aeonar threatened.
As Beatrice heard the warning, her body went rigid. She couldn't shake the chills that ran up and down her spine. "Just make yourself look presentable for the hearing," she croaked out, her voice strained, still sore from the earlier strangulation. With nothing more to add, the queen left.
Viserys watched as the queen scrambled out of the room, only for Rhaenyra and Daemon to enter. "Aunt Rhaenyra. Prince Daemon," he greeted.
"Aegon, was it?" Daemon raised a brow.
"Mm-mmm. Viserys."
"Ah. Can never tell the difference between you two."
Aeonar and Alicent's gazes met with Rhaenyra and Daemon's upon their return to the room after six long years apart; the atmosphere became laden with indescribable anticipation. The four individuals intensely scrutinized each other, taking in every detail of each other's appearance. Rhaenyra's unwavering gaze was firmly fixed on her elder brother, Aeonar. Despite his youthful countenance, at thirty-seven years of age, the deep-set lines of worry etched into his features gave the impression of a far more advanced age. However, it was the way in which he looked at her that caught Rhaenyra's attention the most. Aeonar's eyes lacked any semblance of warmth or familiarity, leaving her with the impression that the brother she once knew was now a mere shadow of his former self. His demeanor was cold, distant, and almost indifferent, leaving her with a palpable sense of unease. The silence in the room was deafening, with the only audible sounds being the deep, steady breaths of the four figures as they stood in a motionless tableau.
"Viserys," Aeonar turned to his son, "henujagon īlva (leave us)."
Alicent silently motioned for him to do the same.
Viserys instinctively felt he was out of his league; he acquiesced to his parents' request and began to depart. But before he left, he cast one final glance at his aunt. "I wish you all the best. I've done everything within my power. The rest is up to you now," he disclosed in a whispering tone.
Following the departure of her nephew, Rhaenyra found herself in the company of only four other individuals within the room, including herself.
Aeonar kept his eyes locked on his sister. "And here she is. The prodigal sister has returned to the flock," he uttered coolly.
"It is good to see you again after so many years, Princess Rhaenyra," Alicent politely greeted. "And to you as well, Prince Daemon. It has been so long since we were granted the joy of your presence."
Rhaenyra silenced Daemon before he could say anything that might aggravate their already delicate situation. After all, they had been banished from the capital six years prior. The Realm's Delight knew she had to be tactful and persuade her brother to listen to her. She believed this approach would be subtle yet effective, as she aimed to find a diplomatic solution to their predicament. "It's been a while, Alicent. You look great; marriage has been very kind to you," she complimented with a warm smile. Then, turning to Aeonar, she couldn't help but choose her words carefully. "My dear brother, it feels like ages since we last spoke; how I longed to see you again after so much time apart. I understand you've had more pressing business to care for, and I don't blame you for keeping the kingdoms together. Father made the right decision to name you as his Hand, and it's a well-deserved position. It's essential to learn the art of ruling a kingdom if one is to shoulder the weight of responsibility in the future."
Flattery will get you nowhere, Rhaenyra. I can see right through you.
"My husband does not rule, Rhaenyra," Alicent shook her head. "He's merely doing everything within his power as the king's heir to maintain the realm's stability." She turned to Aeonar. "Come now, my love. Please do Rhaenyra the courtesy of welcoming her, your dear sister who has traveled far to see you. It would be a kind and courteous gesture."
"Indeed, she has come a long way," Aeonar replied calmly, laying his quill aside. "Although," he rose from his seat, "I find the timing of this whole affair to be rather fortuitous that my flesh and blood would grace me with her presence only when it's… convenient, wouldn't you say? Hmm?" He turned to Rhaenyra. "But enough about that. Call it what you will. Now, I have seven kingdoms to look after and precious little time to waste on social calls. So tell me what you want, Rhaenyra," he pressed in a flat cold dead tone. Though, deep down, he already knew the answer.
Rhaenyra spoke determinedly. "There's trouble with my son's claim to Driftmark. The agreement between my father and Lord Corlys was explicit. The Driftwood Throne would pass through Ser Laenor to his sons. Jace is my oldest son and the rightful heir to the throne after his grandfather. But now another is challenging his legitimacy. This is more than just an insult; it's treasonous to try and steal his birthright from under him." She took a deep breath before continuing. "My Lord Hand, I understand how my union with Daemon looks. I know it may have upset you, but I want to assure you that my intentions have always been to support you. Since I disgraced myself with my deplorable actions on Dragonstone sixteen years ago, I chose to re-dedicate myself to our family's survival. We both know that tensions between the Blacks and the Caltrops won't be easing up anytime soon. Even Daemon and I understand that you can't handle them alone. We're family, let us help you." Rhaenyra looked up at her brother, hoping he would see her words' sincerity. She knew that they needed to stand together if they were going to overcome the challenges that lay ahead.
Daemon rolled his eyes. "You don't like me, Aeonar. That much is clear," he scoffed. "But I think it's long overdue that you recognize the potential we offer you."
"You'd do better than most, but the odds aren't in your favor. More importantly, haven't you two done enough already?" Aeonar said with indignation. "I don't expect either of you to understand. Not that you ever did. Like father and Daemon, I gave you every chance to succeed, Rhaenyra. I believed in you. And I put up with a lot because of it. But instead, everything I did for you, you threw it back in my face."
"Aeonar, please, I implore you to hear me out," Rhaenyra's voice was filled with concern. "Our family is in danger of being torn apart from within. Please, for the sake of the mother who bore us, if you truly care for us, help bring peace by proclaiming my son as heir to Driftmark. It's the only way to move forward and heal as a family."
"Don't ever question my intentions, Rhaenyra, or my loyalty to our family or even think about using our dead mother's memory for emotional blackmail. I sacrificed more for House Targaryen in ways you could not fully comprehend. And don't assume just because we share the same parents that you know me entirely. My methods of dealing with these malcontents are more sophisticated than yours."
Daemon approached his nephew. "So that's it? You're actually throwing your own sister away over a grudge? Meanwhile, the Peakes who kept the king addled with so much milk of the poppy, sedating my brother to the point of overdosing," he felt himself growing increasingly angry, "are free to waddle about doing as they please while they scheme and plot behind our backs? I've no doubt that what your daughter was doing for Viserys was an act of the purest mercy, but tell me, for the king's suffering, did you not feel even remotely compelled to warn us about it instead of having your children do it for you?" he dared. The thought of their scheming and plotting made him seethe with frustration. It was unfair, and something needed to be done about it.
Aeonar's eyes shifted to his uncle as he posed a daring question. "This coming from a man who groomed a young girl and paved the way for her?" he retorted. The Young Dragon shook his head. "You need me; that much is clear." He turned to gaze out the window overlooking the harbor and training courtyard. "But I don't need you." The word hung between them, huge, sharp, poisoned. "So allow me to refresh your memories: I'm done helping you. You got yourselves into this mess, now learn to get yourselves out of it." Aeonar then returned to his desk. "You have three days to prepare Jace for the hearing. So I suggest you start using them instead of wasting your time by annoying me. Go, now. Speak no more of who has a better claim to Driftmark than who." He pointed toward the door. "Go."
With a heavy heart, Rhaenyra dejectedly begins to walk away. The weight of the world seems to be crashing down on her, and she can hardly bear it. She knows that her only hope for survival against the Caltrops lies in her brother and the safety he can provide for her and her precious sons.'I'm done helping you. You got yourselves into this mess, now learn to get yourselves out of it,' were the harsh words Aeonar hurled at her.
Feeling angry, Daemon decided to leave since the Hand was unwilling to assist. He resolved to find an alternative method of obtaining his desires.
Alicent couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. She glanced at Aeonar, then watched as Rhaenyra and Daemon walked away. Even after twenty years, she desperately hoped for reconciliation and suddenly remembered a clue she uncovered that could help to reunite the broken family. But to make it work, Alicent needed to convince Rhaenyra. She knew she had to show her the evidence she had gathered over the past two years. Alicent waited until Aeonar was absorbed in his work, then sneakily grabbed a small chest and quietly moved it out of the room. Before leaving, she looked back at Aeonar, who was busy writing letters and stamping decrees. I'm sorry, love. But I need to do this. I hope you understand. The Father will understand. Taking the initiative, she went off to find Rhaenyra.
Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast…
Rhaenyra felt helpless. Her father was dying; her brother was unwilling to help her… What other options did she have? With the Caltrops and Ser Vaemond Velaryon making a play for control of Driftmark, her eldest son Jacaerys's future was at stake. Many nobles would persecute her three children bearing the legal surname Velaryon at the hearing. When the petitions began, public opinion would sway toward Vaemond in his bid.
"Rhaenyra, hold on."
Rhaenyra turned to see Alicent arriving. She was carrying something in her arms. "A… Alicent? Why?" she asked. Her hand placed on her swollen pregnant belly, the Targaryen princess was trying to settle down.
Alicent's unwavering determination was admirable. "I get why you came to us looking for support. Whatever mistakes that were made in the past, they've been forgiven long ago," she confidently stated. "A mother's love for her children knows no bounds. I genuinely believe you. Your honesty is truly appreciated. But don't give up just yet. The answer might be right in front of you, staring you in the face."
"How?"
"I can't get involved in the proceedings. However… I can help you mend relations before it's too late." Alicent then presented the chest, embellished with a Seven-Pointed Star necklace and accompanied by a key. The lock on the trunk had a combination to keep the contents concealed from curious onlookers.
Rhaenyra looked at the chest. "How is this supposed to help me or my son?" she asked.
"You'll have to open it and look inside to see the truth. And when the time comes, you'll know when to use it. Don't worry, Rhaenyra. I have faith in you. What kind of friend would I be if I believed otherwise?"
"Who are you, and what did you do with the Alicent I knew?"
"It's always been me." Alicent retained eye contact. "Ever since I lost my baby Alaena two years ago, I thought my world had come to an end. If it were not for the support of a united family, I… I dared not think what would have happened."
Rhaenyra was taken aback by the news. Alicent had been pregnant and had lost the baby? It must have been an incredibly difficult and traumatic ordeal for her. The princess was unaware of this and felt regretful that she hadn't been there to support her childhood best friend during such a challenging time.
"But please, Rhaenyra. Don't feel sorry for me. I've made my peace a long time ago. The emblems of the Seven serve only to guide us on an uncertain path. To remind us of a higher authority. Should you ever need guidance, I'm here for you."
As Alicent made her way back to the Hand's room, Rhaenyra held the chest tightly, scanning the area to ensure no one was watching them. Once she was sure that the coast was clear, she headed towards her quarters, keeping an eye out for any of the usual suspects. Her uncle-husband Daemon, her sons Jace, Luke, or Joffrey, and her cousin/stepdaughter Rhaena weren't here. None of them were in sight. What could be so important about this chest that Alicent wanted her to see? Rhaenyra swiftly took the key and noticed a small encryption on the handle. Left 4, Right 2, Left 10, Right 9, Left 6. Rhaenyra followed the instructions with steady hands and turned the key in both directions until the chest was finally unlocked with a satisfying click. As she lifted the lid, she couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity. Inside, she found a stack of old letters, their yellowed pages hinting at their age. But despite their antiquity, the ink was still vivid and legible, save for a few stubborn stains here and there.
As Rhaenyra picked up one of the pages, her eyes followed the handwriting until she realized that it was familiar. The realization hit her hard, causing her to gasp and quickly cover her mouth to hold back tears.
"Oh, mother…~"
Red Keep ― Godswood…
"What?! Really?!" Rhaena exclaimed with excitement.
"Shhh! Keep it down, will you," Baela shushed her sister.
"Oh! Sorry, sorry, sorry. W-Well, I mean… was it… good?"
"Now, now, little sister. That is private. But it was certainly a new experience. Never thought it would happen to me, of all people."
"But that's wonderful. Does anyone know about you two yet?"
"NO!" Baela regained her composure. "Ahem! No. No, I'd prefer to keep my private affairs private. There's no reason to blurt it out in the open where everyone can hear." She placed a palm on her sister's shoulder before giving a firm squeeze. "You tell anyone about this? I'll pull your fucking hair out. Understand?"
Rhaena blinked. "Y-Yes, sis," she complied.
Princess Rhaenys stood in front of the ancient weirwood tree, her gaze was fixed on the gnarled, grinning face etched into its bark. She watched her granddaughters as they played nearby, their laughter echoing through the peaceful glade. Suddenly, a sense of another's presence caused her to notice someone approaching from behind. "You are either very brave or very foolish to seek me out," the Queen Who Never Was said without even turning around.
"Your senses remain as sharp as ever," Rhaenyra said to her elder kinsman. "I understand you've taken Baela to ward. I heard great things about her. You've, um... raised her admirably."
"You honor me, princess."
"I wondered for many an hour what your purpose was in coming here. Whether you'd speak for or against the suit brought by Ser Vaemond. But then, I realized… I have come to ask where you stand on the matter of the inheritance of Driftmark? Do you intend to nominate yourself as heir, to stand as Lady Regent for Laena's daughters?"
"What if I am?"
"This is no fair proceeding. It is a trap set by Beatrice and the Caltrops, I'd wager, to proclaim my son illegitimate. I have come to ask that you reconsider. That you place your support behind my son Jace as the heir to House Velaryon."
"And why would I do that? I owe you nothing."
Rhaenyra twisted the rings on her fingers, a clear sign she was nervous. "It is not for me I ask this. But for the realm. You know that the succession of Driftmark could be a catalyst that leads to war. You have the influence to prevent that."
"Hmm," Rhaenys hummed as she stared intently at the great white tree, the red leaves gently rustling in the wind as a storm brewing in the distance. "You know, someone said something very similar to me many years ago… during another succession crisis."
ooOoo
Flashback: 40 years ago (92 AC)…
The news of Prince Aemon Targaryen's death had shocked the court and the realm, leaving them all in mourning. His younger brother, Prince Baelon, avenged his death by slaughtering the Myrish pirates who had killed him. But what came next was surprising. King Jaehaerys announced that Baelon would be named the heir to the Iron Throne, bypassing Aemon's first and only child, Rhaenys. This decision did not sit well with Rhaenys, who was heavily pregnant with her first child at the time.
Rhaenys was on Dragonstone comforting her widowed mother, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, when she heard the news, and she immediately donned her armor and took up her sword, mounting her dragon Meleys. She flew to King's Landing with the intention of speaking with her grandfather, the king, about the matter. When she arrived, she was met by the seven members of the Kingsguard, who requested that she surrender her sword before entering the castle.
Ser Ryam Redwyne, the Lord Commander, stepped forward with an air of authority. "Greetings, princess," he said in a calm and collected manner, his eyes fixed on her.
Rhaenys responded curtly, removing her leather riding gloves. "Lord Commander," she replied, her tone sharp. "I have come to see my grandfather, King Jaehaerys, the First of His Name."
"Ah, I see," Ryam nodded, his gaze never leaving her. "Unfortunately, before you can enter the castle, you must surrender your sword."
Rhaenys bristled at this. "And by whose orders is that?!" she demanded, her eyes flashing.
"The king himself," Ryam answered with a hint of sympathy, knowing full well that even princesses had to follow the rules.
Rhaenys was not pleased with this demand, but she complied. "Well then…" she boldly raised her arms. "Go ahead then, take my sword."
One of the Kingsguard knights began to move forward but was met with a fierce hiss from Meleys, causing him to stumble back in fear. The other Kingsguard hesitated, their swords half-drawn, until Ryam commanded them to stand down. "Stand down! Seethe your steel!" With some reluctance, they did just that. Ryam turned his attention back to Rhaenys. "Princess… please."
With a snort, Rhaenys undid her sword and flung it at the Lord Commander's feet. "What kind of king sends seven men to disarm a pregnant woman?" she demanded, striding forward with a princess's grace. The knights parted for her, and she swept through the halls of the Red Keep with a confidence that few could match. Servants and guards alike stepped aside, wary of the power emanating from the princess. Finally, Rhaenys reached the throne room doors, only to find her uncle Baelon standing guard.
"Rhaenys―" Baelon was about to utter his niece's name when he was suddenly interrupted by a sudden slap across his face. She had struck him, clearly unimpressed by the news he had brought.
"You couldn't even come yourself to share your news, could you? You had to send a raven instead!" The princess was ready to strike again, but Baelon managed to catch her wrist in time, holding her firmly yet gently.
"Listen to me," pleaded Baelon, his voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't know what he was doing until after it was done. I swear to you."
Rhaenys wanted to argue, but the sight of tears in her brother's eyes stopped her in her tracks. She could see the hurt and sadness etched on his face.
"I loved my brother. I never wanted to take his place as heir. I always supported his decision that you should one day succeed him. I didn't seek this."
For a moment, Rhaenys stopped struggling, and Baelon released her. "Then stand aside or stand with me as I go before the Iron Throne and demand what is mine by rights!"
"Rhaenys… I cannot let you do that."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing… Why not?! Tell me, uncle! Tell me why!"
"Immediately after the announcement, rumors began to circulate that Driftmark's fleet is gearing up to blockade the Gullet. Storm's End is threatening to call their banners to support your claim. At court, there's a rift between those who support the change and those who oppose it. To make matters worse, my mother, the queen herself, expressed her disapproval of the decision at the small council meeting."
This news completely took aback Rhaenys. She hadn't been informed of her husband's anger or her uncle's gathering of forces at Storm's End. But then again, she had been on Dragonstone; how could she have possibly known? Nevertheless, it was reassuring to know that she had allies on her side. "So, my grandmother believes that I am the rightful heir to the throne after my father and should have been named Princess of Dragonstone?" she asked.
Baelon let out a sigh. "Yes, that's true, but we're on the brink of a crisis here. If you go in there and start accusing people of theft and seizing property, it could lead to a civil war. Is that really what your father would have wanted?" he questioned.
With a fierce scowl, Rhaenys shot a glare at her uncle, her frustration boiling over. "What am I supposed to do? Just sit back and watch as my rightful claim slips through my fingers?!" she demanded, her teeth gritted in anger.
Her uncle held up a placating hand, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Please, let's take a step back. Once we've cooled down, I'll speak to the king, and we'll resolve this together. I promise you, Rhaenys, no one wants this more than I do."
Despite her initial resistance, Rhaenys eventually relented, letting out a deep sigh. "Fine, for the sake of my father's memory, I won't tear apart the kingdom. But I won't forget what has happened here today, and the king is not welcome on Driftmark," she declared, her voice laced with determination. With that, she turned on her heel and strode away, her pregnant belly leading the way.
As she disappeared from view, Baelon let out a deep sigh, running his fingers through his silver hair, knowing that this was far from over.
ooOoo
As Rhaenyra listened to Rhaenys' tale, she couldn't help but be reminded of a similar situation she had been in herself. It wasn't common knowledge in the Seven Kingdoms who the Queen Who Never Was truly was. Only those who had known her were long gone. Despite Rhaenys's lack of interest in hearing Rhaenyra out for cuckolding her son, the princess may just have what it takes to make things right. "I loved your son. You may not believe it to be true, but I did. Look, I'll make you an offer," she proposed. "Back Jace's claim, and let us betroth him and Rhaena to each other. Rhaena will rule in Driftmark, and… the seat will pass to her and Jacaerys's children in time."
Rhaenys arched an eyebrow, finding the situation eerily familiar. 'Jaehaerys is my eldest son and heir. He will ascend the Iron Throne after me. Baela will stand by his side as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and their sons will succeed them. Rhaena will retain her claim to Driftmark and High Tide will pass to her children, ensuring Lady Laena's legacy lives on through her daughters. Your granddaughters.' The Queen Who Never Was found Rhaenyra's rushed political maneuvering amusing, whether it was an act of desperation or not. "A generous offer. Or a desperate one," she remarked.
"What does it matter?" Rhaenyra replied.
"You are right in this, at least. It does not matter. You can bargain with me all you like. Bringing my granddaughter with you to soften my resolve. But when that moment comes in three days, the Caltrops will land their first blow. The only pity here is that your brother reached out to me first."
As if struck by a powerful gust, Rhaenyra felt her breath leave her in a rush. Aeonar had beaten her to Rhaenys? What could he have possibly offered the Queen Who Never Was to win her allegiance? The urgency of knowing consumed her. Time was running out, and she had to uncover the truth before it was too late.
Chapter End
Author's Note: The second half has arrived where we see Rhaenyra and Daemon making a bid for securing support for Jacaerys Velaryon in the attempt to retain his claim for Driftmark. However, not all appeared as it seems. Aeonar turned them away, but Alicent knew something her husband didn't know and gave it to Rhaenyra. What could be inside that chest and how would it be detremental? What are your thoughts? Let me know.
garrysprawson123: Wow i love this chapter! and i have this question, when is the next chapter!? i can't wait! Did Aemma wrote those letters before her death, and will Aeonar read her letters and he will reconcile with his family, and will he make Viserys to marry Rhaena instead of Jacerys because he won't allow it
randomdude24: Aeonar delivering his brand of Justice to Queen Beatrice, cutting her hand off for indirectly trying to kill him at Driftmark and choking her for insulting his late child, I actually think Beatrice is dumber then Cersei, didn't think it was possible. I do hope Aeonar can come to reconcile with Rhaenyra and his father before the end, holding on to that kind of resentment will only make things difficult, glad Alicent is trying to help him, even if he's too stubborn to see it.
I still question how the Caltrops can even suggest putting Aegon on the throne, while Aeonar is feared a bit he does have respect amongst the people, plus he's ruled in his father's place. Aegon is a truly unfit king as he is a man. Aemond is a wildcard he's skilled in battle but has very little diplomatic skills and has no restraint, without Vhagar he's nothing. Looking forward to how that plays out
C.E.W: Well, as expected Aeonar Targaryen has turned away Rhaenyra and Daemon's plea, as well as Rhaenys. Aeonar has every right to be angry with Rhaenyra and Daemon, they've given him a hard time. But Aeonar can't hold against them forever, alienating them and dividing the House further than it already is. A divided house cannot stand, it'd be easier to blame on Rhaenyra and King Viserys but it won't solve the problem. Stubbornness is perhaps Aeonar's greatest weakness.
Wonder what letters that the late Queen Aemma have that could possibly help Rhaenyra and Aeonar reconciliation. Rhaenrya's problems Ser Criston, her marriage, Daemon happened after Queen Aemma died.
There is another way, Rhaenyra or Alicent can find out about Aeonar's failed promise to the Old King. Aeonar is unlikely to talk about it, but Ser Harrold Westerling might. Ser Harrold supports Aeonar, Harrold has known Aeonar long enough to know how keeping the Old King's legacy intact is important to him. Ser Harrold might tell Rhaenyra or Alicent, maybe both at once.
Rhaenyra only has one other person to turn to, King Viserys.
Questions:
Given eyes everywhere, I assume Aeonar will be aware of Rhaenyra's visit to King Viserys?
―That, and the Caltrops have spies too
Will Aeonar have a talk with his children about calling Rhaenyra and Daemon behind his back?
―Maybe, maybe not.
If Rhaenyra visits the King, won't Ser Harrold be there? As Lord-Commander of the Kingsguard, his primary duty is the King's safety, and sees no authority but the king's.
―Yes
Vaemond still on the way to the capital?
―Yes
Rhaena still waiting to tame a dragon?
―Yes
XavierWright: Damn. Shit's really starting to get real.
Assuming Rhaenys changes her mind and decides to back Jace after all, I bet Aeonar's gonna pretty pissed about that, huh?
suppes1: Awesome update If I was Aeonar I would marry Rhaena to Viserys